The Art of Murder
by ectoplasmicglitterruin
Summary: Izuku Midoriya had always been alone since his mother left him on the sidewalk at the age of 4. Waking up to a blond man fixing an apartment for him didn't change that—though for some reason people kept adding into his life. Maybe soon it would be enough to change that— All the while, news of quirkless people being killed dominated the media.
1. Of Cafe Incidents & Pouncing Purple Cats

**MIDORIYA, IZUKU BLOG #0001**

**May 2, 2070 [Friday]**

**3:47 PM - The Pink Stach Café**

**The world is not a fair place.**

**I know that now.**

**According to the recent survey, 98% of the world's population mostly manifested their 'quirks' at the age of 4. Though some late bloomers were documented to have gotten theirs at the age of 6, not having it at the standard age would generally make that person 'quirkless'.**

**I've been fascinated by the subject since I was a young boy; seeing the people that surrounds you doing things that are both supernatural yet ordinary.**

**It was awe-inspiring, no matter what the quirk was; the extra ability of a unique individual that could potentially help the human race do better… or worse.**

**The subject of heroes and villains had been something of a dream for me.**

**While I excel at it in theory and analysis, the physical part of it had always been rather difficult for me. I guess that's what happens when you grow up as a sickly child.**

**Then again, it could just be because I'm quirkless.**

The green haired young man sighed as he pressed the 'backspace' button on his laptop repeatedly in a bored, defeated manner.

"Why is making a blog so hard?" he muttered as he stared at the blank page of the program before being startled by a vibrating black puck situated on the table where multiple of his drawings were scattered.

"DARK MOCHA FRAPPUCINO FOR IZUKU? CUSTOMER IZUKU?"

The teen jumped slightly at the call of his name, quickly making his way towards the counter to claim his drink with his buzzer.

"Thank you, kind sir, enjoy your wonderful drink!" The stylish blond barista behind the bar grinned at the greenette. "How's the blog, by the way? Any luck finishing a whole page this time?"

Izuku huffed, but smiled in familiarity. "It's still blank, Kaminari. I don't know how you guys do these things. I certainly don't know how it would help my art sell."

"Well, you can market your sketches—do some commissions and post a digital portfolio for people to view your wonderful creations—!" The barista's grin only widened at the increasing uncomfortable expression on the other man's face as he gestured to the messy table in the middle of the café while talking loudly.

The place wasn't as packed as it would be during rush hours and meal times, but there were still quite a few occupying 5 to 6 tables; mostly group of friends, but there was another guy sitting all on his own like Izuku—only with a cleaner table.

"B-b-but I don't know how to market things! I mean, have you seen my drawings, they're not that great! Whenever I look at digital portfolios—" Izuku whispered frantically with hand gestures before he sighed. "There's just some quality to it that I can't hope to achieve in my current skill."

Kaminari gave a sigh of his own opening his mouth to comment when the lights in the café flickered off.

"What? A blackout?" The blond looked up at the hanging light bulbs catching reflection from the light outside; the manager insisted were 'hip and cool' and would attract the young crowd.

The overlapping noise of curious conversation of the patrons filled up the silence at the rest of the staff went around to try and figure out the cause.

"Hey, Denki!" A pink-skinned woman came out from the back room. "Do you mind helping me out with the generator? I think there's something stuck in it."

"Huh? What do you mean?" The barista turned to the girl only to be flung back to the counter when the ground gave a violent shake.

The people inside the café started screaming out of fright as some of light bulbs swung hard and came off their lines, raining down on the people.

Izuku, having fallen to the floor for his poor balance, was one such unfortunate customer to be struck on the head by one of the stray bulbs. The glass broke and stunned him for a bit before he quickly yelled for the people to go under their tables, doing so himself as he gathered his wits.

Among the panicked chatter of the crowd, a police siren could be heard far off—then, explosions.

The green eyed art student's head snapped towards the wide cracked windows of the café as a rather large villain ran pass by, holding a sack bulging with cash.

The villain was quickly followed by a hero—no, a hero **intern**. 'They seriously need to wear an ID during patrol?'

The intern was yelling angrily at the villain who seemed genuinely scared for his life despite the blond hero looking tiny compared to him. Sparks surrounded the interns hands as he took stance for a move.

Decked in full costume, the hero intern aimed an arm encased in a weapon that looked like a grenade at the running villain before pulling a pin and releasing a loud powerful explosion; destroying the café's poorly treated window. There were glass everywhere and the people in the café were more frightened then as the thin barrier that separated them from the fight was gone.

"His quirk!" Izuku grinned watching closely as the hero intern laughed maniacally before running off to detain the runaway villain. "That was so powerful! I wonder how he ignites the explosion—"

"IZUKU!" the student turned to the blond barista who looked as if he had been searching for him for a while. "Oh my god, are you okay? Are you hurt? You're bleeding! OH MY GOD, MINA HELP ME OUT HERE, GET ME THE FIRST AID!"

"What's the matter?" A man their age with wild violet locks walked up to the panicking barista. It was the other man sitting on his own.

"MIDORIYA IS BLEEDING AND HE NEEDS HELP, HE NEEDS—" Kaminari's mouth slacked, eyes blank and looked to be more relaxed.

"Alright, sir, I need you to stay calm and retrieve the first aid kit. I'll help your friend, alright?" The strange man gently instructed which the blond merely walked away presuming to do what was asked. The man sighed before turning to the injured person. "Are you okay?"

* * *

"Are you okay?"

Izuku blinked and turned to the man. "Your quirk is triggered by voice!" he gushed in excitement, making the other flinch and warily take a step back, but he barely noticed this as he went on in enthusiasm. "How does it work? Do you need to have a conversation with the person? Do they need to reply? Does it work with JSL or ASL? Does language affect the effects or not? How long can you hold the person's attention? Can you affect more than one with your—" the man's gaze lightened up with amusement as he blocked the other's mouth with his hand.

"I don't think I can answer all those right away." Violet hair chuckled before pulling out something from his pocket. He opened his wallet and handed over a card.

"You're a UA Student!" The shorter man grinned. "That's amazing! You already have your provisional hero license! My name is Izuku Midoriya, it's nice to meet you, Shinsou-kun."

The man blinked in a surprised pause before he remembered that his name was on the card. 'Stupid.' Then again, his sleep-deprived brain couldn't quite catch up to the boy's fast-paced talking, so he returned an awkward smile instead. "Nice to meet you, Midoriya-san."

"Oh, just call me Midoriya, or Izuku—I don't care much for formalities." The green haired student bounced in his place, looking around the chaotic aftermath.

The police finally reached the café, and the people inside gave their statements one group after the other.

Izuku watched the crowd collect themselves and leave after the police were done with them. The police didn't interview everyone, seeing as they all saw the same thing anyway, but they did talk to Shinsou before the left.

The intern walked passed the café on his way to the maiden, dragging the villain—he was anything but gentle.

The art student blinked when the aspiring hero turned to him; eyes meeting for a full second.

The blond hero stared at him with a somewhat haunted expression, before snarling at his direction and following a more well-known hero in jeans.

"I wonder where I've seen him before…" The greenette muttered, touching his upper lip with an index finger as his general pose for when he starts thinking.

"Izuku, did you draw this?" Shinsou's voice drew him away from his personal inquiry to the pile of paper in the other man's hands.

He felt his face grow hot in embarrassment and spluttered badly.

"These are good—you like drawing heroes?" The violet haired man smiled kindly, more natural.

"I-I do. They've always been my inspiration when I paint or sketch." The art student smiled back.

"You've got Eraserhead's detail on point. Are you a fan?" There was more warmth in his tone.

"I—y-yes. He saved me before. I look up to him." Izuku's smile turned enigmatic.

"I'm taking this one." Shinsou announced as he placed the other drawings back on the table. "As payment for treating your injury while you were muttering, all spaced out fan-boying on Ground Zero."

"Wait, you treated me already?" Izuku reached up to feel his head, and sure enough, he realized that part of head was wrapped in bandages. He turned to look at the other to thank him only to splutter in shock at seeing the man holding his phone and taking a selfie.

"There, I put my contact number in. I also have yours already. Did you know you mumble more when you panic? I mean, I don't mind it, but it's probably better if you try to tone it down a bit. You might get in trouble."

"Uh… Why?" Izuku asked, though he felt delighted that Shinsou did what he did.

"Well, some people find the muttering rather creepy and—"

"No, I mean why would like to, uh, keep talking to me? I don't mean any offense, but we just met and I'm kind of useless."

"What do you mean useless?"

"I mean, I'm quirkless. The only thing I'm good at is drawing and even then there are better artists out there who can draw better—"

"Wait, hold on—" Shinsou gave the kid a wide-eyed stare. "Have you never just, you know, be friends with someone after talking to them?"

"I—I don't have many friends, Shinsou-san. I never learned how to make friends properly." Izuku sighed as he recalled a friend—his only friend when he was younger. "My mom gave me away when I was 4, and since then I've only ever lived with Yamada-san."

"Your adoptive father?"

"My landlord, actually. I didn't want to burden him after he took me in, so I made sure he knew that I could take care of myself. Making friends would have made that a whole lot harder for a kid, so I kept to myself—not like anyone would've want to be friends with me anyway." The greenette smiled, ignoring Shinsou's expression.

"Yeah, that actually makes my decision more solid. You have no choice in this matter, we're friends now. I'm walking you home." The violet haired man glared when Izuku started to protest—not that it did much to deter the determined aspiring hero.

* * *

"—so you decided on studying to become a professional painter instead?" Along their walk to Izuku's apartment, "Shinsou-san" became "Shinsou"; a little more walking, and "Shinsou" became "Hitoshi".

"I mean, if I could teach kids to use painting as an outlet, the world might be a little more peaceful, you know? All these fighting with heroes and villains, and destroying buildings—it's the latest trend of the century. Everyone is born into thinking that they should be a hero because—well, you know, heroes are cool—"

"But it's detrimental to the development of their moral compass." Shinsou answered. "Kids would grow up seeing black and white."

* * *

_Shizuka Homura, age 17, was found dead this afternoon in her apartment in XXXXXXXXXX. The victim was strangled, molested, and mutilated in her own bed. It was believed to be the work of a stalker. Police investigation believe that the assailant broke into the victim's home around 2:00, and left using an intern hero's fight performance at a nearby street that devastated a local café._

_The victim's parents were out during this time to buy dinner for the family._

_Shizuka Homura had been a student at a local art school "Bridges Academy for Arts", and was aspiring to be a world-renowned painter. The victim has been reported to be quirkless, and could not have defended herself against her attacker—_

"Such dreadful news." Hizashi Yamada sighed as he turned off the radio and begun preparing for his patrol.

* * *

**To be continued…**


	2. A Day Out with A New Friend

**MIDORIYA, IZUKU BLOG #0000**

**May 3, 2070 [Saturday]**

**6:00 AM - Home**

**The sun came up not to long ago.**

**I wish it didn't.**

**Since being abandoned by my own mother at the age of 4, I haven't really felt anything remotely like this. I guess I can say that I'm a little scared.**

**No. I'm terrified, and very very sad.**

**Zuka-chan was a good friend in my class. When I woke up today, I've gotten a message from her mother about what happened to her.**

**I can't believe that she's gone.**

**Who would do something so awful to someone so nice? ./,khacvbnm**

Loud sobs rang inside the empty apartment as the green-haired student cried with his head on his keyboard. He was shaking violently as he cried, too far deep into the emotion that had taken hold of his waking mind.

It wasn't until he noticed that his face was being cradled gently against a dark shirt that he realized his landlord had entered his apartment—probably heard him crying.

He could hear the older man's genuine concern as he asked him what was wrong, but Izuku couldn't tell him about it in his state so his landlord opted to just let him cry on his shoulder.

When the student finally ran out of tears to shed, the blond man patted his unruly green locks and excused himself to make some tea and breakfast for them.

Izuku stayed sat on his couch and stared at the window; his laptop had been placed on the coffee table, device turned off and folded.

He didn't know how long he sat there, but the blond man was soon back to his side gently coaxing him to stand up to head over to the kitchenette.

When both settled, Hizashi Yamada sighed and tapped the young man's hand which was limply set on the table beside the boy's plate.

Izuku's gaze focused on him slowly, when he was sure that he had the younger man's attention, he signed. *What happened? Are you okay?*

* * *

When Present Mic first found the child sitting on the steps in front of the door to the apartment building he owned, he thought that the kid was merely using the steps to wait for someone.

He greeted him warmly, despite the chill in the air and bid him a good day before he went on ahead to do his patrol shift with his costume case tucked in one arm.

He came back early in the evening from apprehending a thief to find the same kid sleeping curled up in the exact same place where he left him, his young tear-stained baby cheeks pressed against the hard cement, breath hitching with each one he took in.

It would forever be one of the few moments in his life that he could actually say that he hated the whole world for this kind of injustice.

In his opinion, kids should never have to suffer this kind of pain or neglect.

He decided then to take the child with him inside, making his way to his own apartment to change out of his hero costume and into comfortable clothes.

The kid slept on, even as he picked him back up from his cot and went to the empty apartment next to his.

His own apartment was far too cluttered with his personal equipment for the kid to actually feel comfy.

He placed the green haired little bean on one of the two sofas available and proceeded to air-out the room, going through the process of making it as homey as he could for the child.

Upon waking up later into the night, the child, while seemingly grateful to be warm and comfortable, refused to talk to him at all.

It was difficult.

Though it took some time, he felt everything shifted for the better when Hizashi made a breakthrough on the third week.

He thought of it during one of the video-calls he does with his parents on a weekly basis.

He started teaching the kid how to sign.

* * *

Izuku explained as best as he could in sign, grateful to have a way to speak to his guardian without using his voice.

His landlord gave him an understanding look. "You were close to her?" the older man asked out loud as he signed; a technique he found effective into coaxing Izuku back to verbal conversation.

*We're often partners in class. She's a good friend. She was very kind.* The younger man signed sadly.

"She was wonderful, huh?" the pro-hero gave the boy an encouraging smile. "Why not make something for her family? A painting that would remind them of their daughter's kindness and compassion?"

Life blinked back in wide green eyes as he said this. Izuku's expression turned thoughtful before he nodded and finally started eating the warm porridge that the other man prepared for him.

* * *

**To: MutteringGrass**

**From: SleeplessRug**

Morning, Izuku

Are you free today?

**To: SleeplessRug**

**From: MutteringGrass**

Seriously? Muttering Grass?

I'm going to the mall to buy some paint.

Join me?

**To: MutteringGrass**

**From: SleeplessRug**

You're green physically in general and you mutter, get on with the program.

Sure. I was going to ask you to hang out anyway.

What kind of friend would I be if I give you a moment of peace?

**To: SleeplessRug**

**From: MutteringGrass**

Uh, a good one?

I'll meet you at the Mall entrance, okay?

**To: MutteringGrass**

**From: SleeplessRug**

Kk. See you there.

* * *

Hitoshi Shinsou was a recovering lonely boy—or so his classmates say. Well, ex-classmates.

Ever since he'd been transferred from the General Education course to the Heroics course, he felt a little livelier; more animated and accepting of his quirk.

Of course, it helped that his homeroom teacher basically fought quirkless, only using Erasure when the opportunity presents itself. Eraserhead had always been and forever will be his favorite hero.

Though ultimately, it was his classmates who triggered the change in him.

How everyone can be so accepting in their course was beyond him, but he's never one to look at any gift badly. He valued everyone in his new class—heck, he even respected Explosion Boy McBlasty and that kid had been nothing but nasty to everyone.

So when Ochako Uraraka told him one morning to try talking to a stranger to test how much he had improved with his social interactions—he did. In the afternoon right after, that same day in fact.

The café he went to was one he frequented in before he went to Heroics. One of his classmates went there to work part time, but he worked during the night. Fumikage Tokoyami reveled in the dark, and he said it often enough.

While the café wasn't full, it was crowded enough to make him balk a little on the inside. They were all grouped, too; so there's the anxiety of walking up to one without becoming a stuttering mess.

He nearly gave up when a harried-looking student came in. There were multiple sketchpads in his arms and a sticker-ridden laptop on top of them.

He went straight to the counter to order and pay, before grabbing the buzzer and making his way to a free table.

The giggles from the nearby table made him aware of his probably stupid expression as he stared after the mousy young man.

Then, he smiled as he decided, he found his target.

* * *

"Hitoshi!" Izuku's voice made him smile slightly before he realized that it was too happy, too forced—something that one would often see on television and not at all how the other boy was when they've met yesterday… Should he ask?

Walking closer to the entrance of the mall, the violet haired student gave the smaller teen his own weird smile. "What's up, Green?" he winced internally at how lame it sounded.

It made the other pause for a bit before laughing. It was the right laugh, Hitoshi thought, feeling better. The same one as yesterday. Maybe he was just feeling odd earlier?

"You know if you call me that, I'd have to call you purple. Maybe Lilac? It sounds like such a sweet name for a face like yours though." Izuku joked, earning him a pinch on his side.

The smaller boy yelped and jumped away, but was still laughing—so Hitoshi chased him with every intention to make him stop. His cheeks were burning, damn it.

* * *

"So, we can hang out at my place today. Yamada-san said he doesn't mind so long as we don't disturb the new neighbor, he just moved in today and felt rather ill." Izuku announced as he stole some fries from Hitoshi's tray.

"Huh, you know, I never asked but—what school are you from? I didn't see you in uniform yesterday." The violet haired student grinned as he successfully filched a chicken nugget from the other's tray.

They've managed to buy all their purchases without any more incidents like the one in the entrance, a guard had reprimanded them for their rowdy behavior. They also bought some groceries for the new neighbor with some instruction from Izuku's landlord to make the gentleman some soup when he got home.

"Yamada-san tutored me till I was able to pass the entrance exam for the Bridges Academy for Arts—the students rarely go to the actual school building for practicals; the teachers there believed in working from one's own comfort and space. So for those who wish it, there's online course work—but everyone is welcome to come to school for a more audio/visual-heavy hands-on lesson.

I go to school on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays; but we're not required to wear any uniform since it would "hinder the growth of our creativity". I mean, I get—STOP STEALING MY NUGGETS!"

"I will if you stop taking my fries." Hitoshi chuckled as he offered the half-bitten nugget back, which the other boy took and ate with a mischievous grin.

"You know, I could have some unknown disease—and now you have it, too, since you ate something with my saliva on it." The panicked look on Izuku's face made the other laugh out loud, nearly falling off his chair.

* * *

Paying the taxi, both boys thanked the driver and went inside the apartment building with arms loaded with their purchased items.

"What floor are you in?" the violet haired hero-in-training asked, holding the door to the elevator open for Izuku with his shoulder.

"Fifth, please." The art student answered softly with a yawn.

Hitoshi nodded as he pushed the correct button and leaned back to somewhat copy the posture of his friend who seemed to be dozing with his head hanging low, nearly going into one of the open paper bags in his arms.

Before the door closed, his head snapped towards the reception desk when he heard a familiar voice. He watched curiously as a dual-color-haired boy talked to the lady in the reception desk, holding a non-descriptive brown box.

Shrugging the whole event off, he started when he felt the smaller boy leaned on his side mumbling softly—upon closer inspection, it seemed to him that his friend was barely holding himself conscious.

He nudged Izuku gently, reminding him that he needed to make some soup for his neighbor first.

* * *

Toshinori Yago sighed in comfort as he stretched out on the sofa. He barely just fit in length, but not a lot of furniture could house his size anyway.

The man was glad that he took Present Mic's offer for the apartment.

He had been told that the rooms were all quite the same in size, and would happily house any heroes in need for a place to stay within tight budget.

Not that he was in any financial bind—but he needed somewhere safe to stay while his house was under renovation and repair.

One of the pipes from his basement broke, it led to the discovery of a mold infestation in one of the walls. He was advised not to stay in the house until it was fully removed.

He wanted to stay at a hotel at first, but he doubted that his stay would extend the 'safety' that the establishment promised. When Present Mic heard about his predicament, he all but forced the older hero into taking his offer.

'_Nearly the whole building is unoccupied at the moment._ _The only one ever consciously roaming about the whole building is this kid I picked up years ago, and Evangeline, the receptionist.' _He recalled the other blond man's words.

'_Evangeline's quirk is __**Alarm**__. She's like a smoke-detector that could produce very loud noises from her limbs_—_it can get loud enough to actually knock someone unconscious_ _if they're near her.'_

'—_and the kid?' _Toshinori was so sure then that he was prepared for anything, but the word still affected him more than he let on.

'_Quirkless.'_

The silence of the apartment was broken by a noise reminiscent of paper being dragged roughly against cement. Toshinori opened his eyes and sat up, looking towards the door.

There was a pause, before the noise **moved **towards the left side from his door.

'Maybe there was someone cleaning outside?' The man thought as he stood up and went towards the door to greet whoever, but the noise was gone by the time he reached the knob.

It felt a little suspicious to him, so Toshinori peaked through the glass covered hole to see if there was anybody there. He found no one, but that could mean absolutely anything. Invisibility quirks are quite well-known in Japan after all.

Then, he heard voices.

* * *

"I'm fine, Hitoshi! I just woke up too early for a Saturday, and it's probably the food—"

"The food?! Do you think it was laced—?"

"What, no! I mean, you know how food makes you sleepy after you eat a lot?"

Hitoshi gave the smaller man a look. "Like… a dragon?"

"I—what?"

"You know how dragons hibernate after eating a lot, right? They guard their treasure and everything but they mainly just sleep on it because they're full from their latest raid?"

Izuku stared dubiously at his friend before shaking his head and continuing on his way towards the new neighbor's door. "—and you dare call me a geek."

He took a startled step back when the door he was about to knock on to opened to reveal a very, **very **tall man. "U-um, Yagi-san?"

The skeletal blond man nodded with a friendly smile.

"You must be young Midoriya! Hizashi-san told me to expect you today, but he seemed to have forgotten to leave your number with me."

"Oh! I'm sorry, did you want something specific from the grocery? It's still quite early, I can get it—"

"No, no, not at all, my boy. Everything is quite fine. Come inside, make yourself at home."

The boys did so, with Hitoshi lagging behind looking to the left of the corridor they were in. There were two more doors before the emergency fire exit door with it's big bright red light at the end of the hall; the one immediately next to the one they were entering was Izuku's, he learned. Room 502, the other boy mentioned—there was a package in front of the door.

"Will mushroom soup be okay, Yagi-san?" Izuku's voice pulled the violet haired man back to his previous action of entering the apartment.

Closing the door as he entered, Hitoshi never heard the other click resounded in the empty hallway not long after—nor did he see the big bright red light of the fire exit door blinked off.

* * *

_**To be continued…**_


	3. Probably Something More

**MIDORIYA, IZUKU BLOG #0001**

**May 3, 2070 [Saturday]**

**6:00 AM - Home**

**The sun came up not to long ago.**

**I wish it didn't.**

**Since being abandoned by my own mother at the age of 4, I haven't really felt anything remotely like this. I guess I can say that I'm a little scared.**

**No. I'm terrified, and very very sad.**

**Zuka-chan was a good friend in my class. When I woke up today, I've gotten a message from her mother about what happened to her.**

**I can't believe that she's gone.**

**Who would do something so awful to someone so nice?**

**3:46 PM – Home **

**I met a friend yesterday. He's currently with me here at home.**

**I've never had a friend over before. He's very nice.**

**His name is Shinso Hitoshi, we're both 17, and he's studying to be a hero at UA.**

**He's really cool! He called his quirk "Brainwash" and he seem to dislike it a little, but when I asked he said he was getting better with it.**

"I sincerely hope that you're not planning to actually publish that online." The deadpanned voice beside his ear startled the art student into almost dropping his computer.

"I'm working on becoming an underground hero, so having that information ready for public reading would be very dangerous to my career, Izu."

"S-sorry, Toshi! I'm not going to publish this post, though. I was just writing them for me." Izuku placed the laptop down on the coffee table before looking up at the other boy standing behind his chair. "I just figured, I'm not going to be good at writing this blog thing. I might as well just make a diary—but since I forgot to buy a notebook while we were out, I was thinking of transferring it when I get the chance. I don't want your life in jeopardy just because I want to write about your quirk—you're like the only friend I have right now."

The violet haired hero student groaned, feeling slightly guilty. "I'll buy you the damn notebook, j-just stop looking at me like that." He muttered walking towards the kitchenette.

"Like what?"

"Ugh, like that! Stop it!"

After making and having the mushroom soup with the new neighbor, the two friends bid the gentleman farewell and returned to Izuku's apartment with the rest of their purchases.

Hitoshi grabbed the package he saw leaning against the wall beside Izuku's door and brought it inside, leaving it by the door for his friend to attend to.

They both decided to stay the rest of the day lounging inside the green haired boy's home.

"Hey—" Hitoshi called out as he made his way from the kitchenette with two mugs of instant coffee.

"Oh, thank you! I need this." The art student laughed, but made a face when he took a sip at the bitter beverage. "Oh, god, it's like drinking asphalt."

"You know, I'm pretty concerned how you even manage to know how liquid asphalt would taste like." The brianwasher huffed a laugh. "Go put some sugar and cream on it, you pansy."

Izuku rolled his eyes at his guest but stood from his place in the couch and made his way to the kitchenette to do what was suggested.

"You said that you were going to paint something for you friend's parents, right?" Hitoshi asked as he sat down on the armchair next to the couch. "You have any idea how you'll start that? Or a sketch?"

"No, not yet. I'm still thinking about it." The other answered while stirring the added sugar in his drink.

"You know, my friend really loved the drawing you did of Eraserhead."

"Oh? You mean the one that you stole yesterday?"

"I didn't steal it. It was payment for my services~"

"Fine, whatever. What did you do to it anyway?"

Hitoshi grinned as he pulled up his phone and showed Izuku a scanned image of his drawing as the other boy re-entered the living room. "I've bragged about it in our Class Group chat. They're all asking for your e-mail address, I think they want to commission you or something."

The greenette spluttered for a moment before his face turned red as he groaned into his hand. "Why would you do that? Toshi, my works are atrocious—and I can't really work under pressure!"

"Hey, calm down, Zu—they're just asking for now. You can always say no. Don't forget that you have a choice in this, so don't panic over nothing, okay?" the violet haired boy stood and hovered guiltily by the other student who calmed at his words.

"Thanks, Hitoshi." Izuku smiled gratefully before moving to sit on the couch. "I think I may have an idea for the paint—"

_**THUD, THUD, THUD.**_

Both boys looked towards the door in curiosity.

"You think, Yagi-san needs more soup?" Hitoshi asked jokingly, but was ignored by Izuku who opted out of the conversation with another eye-roll.

"Who is it?" the smaller boy called out.

"Midoriya Izuku, this is the Detectice Naomasa Tsukauchi from the Police Deparment. We need to go over a few things with you, if you're not to busy."

The two friends gave each other a confused look before Hitoshi went to the kitchenette—probably to make another cup of coffee, while Izuku went to open the door.

Inviting the two officers inside, he offered the couch for them to sit on and asked if they wanted something to drink.

"Ah, we're not staying long. Again, I'm Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi, and this is my colleague, Sansa. We just need to ask you a few things about your classmate, Shizuka Homura." The plain looking man introduced himself and another officer with the head of a tabby cat.

"Oh." Izuku eye's widened, but belatedly mentally scolded himself for forgetting about any possible investigation for his schoolmate. "I'm not sure, I can be of any help. While we were close in school, we never really hang out outside of our classes."

"Any information would help, Midoriya-kun." The detective smiled reassuringly.

"Well," the greenette started, smiling at Hitoshi as the other boy handed out cups of jasmine tea to the two officers, presumably using the left-over hot water from making their coffee. "Shizuka-chan was a very talented artist. She used to help me with my perspective subject. She was quirkless, like me—partly the reason we get along well. Another is that we both like drawing heroes.

Sometimes, she like sketching support weapons. We have some collaborations that she posted online, but I'm not sure if that's important.

She had a boyfriend, he's in our D&C class—"

"D&C? What's the name of the boy?" The Detective asked as he pulled out a small notebook, to write some of the things for later review.

"Design and Color—it's a rather broad subject, and his name is Yamashita Hiroshi. Anyway, Hiro-san sits with us when we go to school for assembly. He's not present in the online class much nowadays, but I haven't checked on him yet. I don't know if he already knows about…" Izuku trailed off in a daze.

The detective gave the boy a sympathetic look and proceeded to ask more routine questions before politely dismissing themselves.

Izuku remained in his state until he felt the space right next to him in the couch dip, making it known that there was another presence.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Hitoshi's voice was kind, albeit a little awkward, like he had never had the reason to ask that question before.

The smaller boy shook his head negatively, but accepted the hug that the other offered in silence.

They remained in the couch for the rest of the afternoon, falling asleep in the arms of the other in silent camaraderie.

* * *

Hizashi Yamada met the officers in the corridor in his civilian-wear. Hair down, reading glasses on, soft shift and jean, plus a pair of comic monkey slippers (a gift from Izuku).

They explained their presence in the building and was quick to excuse themselves, giving the pro-hero time to call on his best friend.

The phone rang a couple of times before a grumpy noise cut it off.

"Sho, I know you're on leave right now—and I'm very absolute that you're not doing anything, but when you can, do you mind spending a few days with me here at the apartment?"

* * *

A little more than an hour and a half, Hitoshi woke up in the dimmed living room.

Izuku was still on the couch with him, still knocked out and cuddled to his side with his back against the backrest.

The room was quiet, and a little chilly—probably from the slightly opened window by the far side of the living room, and it was steadily getting darker.

He knew that he had to go home at some point, Aizawa-sensei gave him a strict curfew to follow—so he regrettably decided to wake the other boy to let him know.

Pushing himself up to his elbow he gently shook the other student, but stopped when he noticed that there were people in the kitchenette. They were both familiar, but he had nothing to connect the two to the place they currently were, so he stood up leaving Izuku with the warm blanket (how did that get there?) and walked up to the two figures talking on the small breakfast bar in the middle of the room.

"Sensei?"

"Ah, Shinsou, you're awake. We decided not to disturb you and your friend when we went in, you two looked exhausted." Aizawa Shota stated as he grabbed another mug and poured some coffee in it, offering the drink to his student.

"What are you doing here, Aizawa-sensei?" Hitoshi asked as he accepted the mug before turning to look at the blond to his right. "Mic-sensei?"

"This is Present Mic's apartment building. It was left to him by his father when he retired, and now he rents it to heroes who needed a peaceful escape from their hectic lives." The scruffy man answered.

"I called Shota here because I was worried about Izuku being alone after what happened to his friend. Since he was on leave for a few days, I thought he could stay here since he planned on sleeping the remaining days away. I didn't know you'd be here, Shinsou-kun."

There was a twinkle of mischief in his teacher's yellow-green eyes that the violet haired boy didn't like. "I met Izuku yesterday from the café near where Bakugou captured the villain."

"And since yesterday, you've gone shopping together, cooked together and slept together—should I expect you to move-in with him soon?"

Hitoshi's face burned at the implication, but glared at the dark-haired teacher when he began to chuckle under his breath. "Relax, problem child. It was just a joke. I'm glad you found yourself a friend outside of high school."

The boy's face burned with a different emotion after hearing the warmth in his teacher's statement. He was proud of his first friend, and he was happy that his father figure was happy for him.

"How was he today, Shinsou-kun?" Present Mic asked slumping on his seat a little.

"He was weird this morning, but he seemed okay until the officers interviewed him." the hero student answered as he sipped at his warm coffee.

"He was very much affected by it this morning—he started signing again, I didn't think he'd bounce back this fast."

"He probably didn't." Aizawa interjected. "You know how good kids are hiding what they really feel when they think that they're being a burden. From what you've told me about Izuku, since you basically adopted the child, he didn't like to bother you and paid you in drawings for the food you gave him until he managed to get himself some part-time jobs in stores."

"He's a really good artist—he just needed the right encouragement for it." Yamada smiled with a dazed look.

"Wait, so he gave you drawings?" Hitoshi's eyes were curious to see how his friend progressed to the amazing sketches he had seen on Izuku's sketch pads. "Did you keep any of them?"

Aizawa snickered in a teasing manner, shooting his embarrassed friend a look.

"He had all of them framed hanging in his studio."

* * *

Naomasa sat on his kitchen table that night looking over the photographs of the murder scene his team sent him. Not a lot of the media connected the case right away, but there were a few similar cases to the one he was working on that was mentioned on TV—and he didn't like where it was leading him.

While some people made tacky titles like 'The Quirkless Killer' or 'The Remover of the Ungifted', the officers have been calling the killer 'The Artist' in the police station.

It was never reported, but the way that the victims' bodies were found were all but unorganized mess. From the way they were left in their beds, to the their state before they died—from the parts missing on the victims' body and the amount of blood spilled—nothing made sense.

Shizuka's body was mutilated. She was missing the skin on her torso, her liver, and 3 ribs—but the amount of blood found in the room, was less than it should be despite the amount of gore.

She was on a state of arousal before she died, whether it was voluntary or otherwise was yet to be theorized, but there were no other DNA that they could find but hers.

There were also no signs of struggle, despite what other TV stations reported.

It was like the girl watched the killer take pieces of body and proceeded to please herself before eventually dying from blood-lost.

Now, normally, the police would look to the family members about this; and as a pre-caution, they were—but these had happened before in several different locations before it happened to Shizuka Homura.

This was the 6th similar death since January and it doesn't seem likely to stop any time soon.

There were clues though.

A link between the victims.

Aside from being quirkless, all the victims had something relating them to art—either they be students, teachers, hobbyists, professionals or aspiring ones, they were all painters.

If only they can get more clues than what was obviously presented to them.

* * *

_**To be continued…**_


	4. A Dash of Cinnamon & Some Nitroglycerin

**MIDORIYA, IZUKU BLOG**

**May 4, 2070 [Sunday]**

**10:00 AM - Aye Café near Bridge Academy**

**So, I have a temporary roommate now. Well, roommates.**

**My landlord decided that I need someone around for some reason.**

**I don't really mind. I mean, it could be fun.**

**Hitoshi was given the permission to stay with me, so there's that; but he can only stay under the condition that Mr. Aizawa stays with us.**

**I don't mind Mr. Aizawa's presence, too. He's nice, even if he's a little grumpy.**

**He looks familiar, but I can't seem to recall where I saw him before.**

**His cartoon cat sleep-shirt and pink sweat pants reminds me of Yamada-san's sleep wear. Maybe they bought it from the same place? They seem close. They wear their hair the same half-bun, too.**

**Anyway, I had to go to school today to get the spare canvas I left last Tuesday.**

**I had to stop by the café in front of the school because my head started hurting. I haven't been feeling well since I woke up. I think I may have caught a bug or something.**

**I don't want to spend the whole day sleeping, but I may not have a choice if my condition gets worse. I'll have to ask Yamada-san if he has any medicine that could help.**

**I have to get home now. It would be bad if I fall asleep here.**

Izuku sighed as he stuffed his laptop in his bag and stood up carefully, only moving when his surroundings stopped moving. He smiled dizzily at the bus boy who moved to open the door for him. He maybe said 'thank you', but he wasn't a hundred percent sure he did.

Sunday mornings had always been slow in almost every part of the city.

The green haired art student stumbled on the sidewalk towards the bus stop.

Or at least, he thought he was.

"This… this isn't the bus stop." The green haired boy mumbled.

He heard an irate sound just above his head.

"Oy, Gremlin—" An angry voice rumbled loudly from the same source. "—what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Mm'goin' ta d'bussstop."

"HAAA?"

Izuku jolted back as hands held him back sharply from what he was leaning on, which he belatedly realized was the man's chest. He chose to stay quiet as he reigned his dizziness back.

"I said—"

"Yeah, I know what the fuck you said! You missed the fucking bus stop by 4 fucking blocks, you zombie shit." The smaller boy frowned at the other's colorful language, but remained pliant in the other man's hands.

"Tha' can't be, I wasonly walkin' fer a few min'tes." Izuku slurred, before yelping when he was yanked very close to glaring red eyes.

"Are you fucking drunk?"

"Wha—no?"

"Are you on fucking drugs?"

"No, why do you—"

"Shut up, I'm asking the fucking questions! Why are you fucking loopy?"

The art student pushed back weekly until he was standing a respectable distance from his inquisiitor. "O-oh! You're tha' hero from yesterday—"

"HEY! What the fuck, what's going on with you?!"

Izuku stared up at the sky. It was rather cloudy, he noticed. It's probably going to rain soon.

"HEY!" the young hero's face obscured his vision. "Are you fucking sick?"

"I think so…" The art student grinned dazedly.

"—of all the fucking…"

* * *

Bakugou Katsuki had the day off.

Now, that doesn't necessarily mean that he would actually get to rest.

"BRAT! I NEED YOU TO GO TO THE STORE AND PICK-UP SOME MISO!"

"HAAA? WHY DON'T YOU GET IT YOURSELF, YOU OLD HAG?!"

"BECAUSE I'M FUCKING DOING SOMETHING, YOU LITTLE SHIT! NOW GET OFF YOUR ASS AND BUY SOME FUCKING MISO FROM THE STORE OR I WON'T FINISH LUNCH ON TIME!"

"Tch." The blond glared as he made his way towards the 5th store since he left his home. The first four were out of stock and it made him think just how much miso paste people consume a day to actually run out of stock in all four stores.

He felt a tick on his brow when he realized just how far he had walked just to look for the damn ingredient.

Luckily, the fifth store had what he needed.

They also had the spicy prawn crackers he was craving for since the month started.

Feeling his mood alleviate a little, he went and bought some and munched on it on his way out.

It was a little chilly outside, but he had his coat on and so it really wasn't a big deal even if he hated the cold. It wasn't freezing enough for gloves, thankfully.

'Maybe a little walk wouldn't hurt. It's still early, I can get home with enough time for the hag to prepare whatever she's planning for the meal.' He mused serenely as he munched on his snack and walked the opposite direction from home.

"If I get too fucking far, I can just get on the shitty bus." he muttered as he mentally went over his expenses and how much he would have left.

Then, he stopped walking.

Katsuki looked down and saw green. 'What the fuck?'

He took a tentative step back, only for the person to follow. 'Did this fucker actually slept on me?!'

"This… this isn't the bus stop." The green haired boy mumbled.

Katsuki growled with barely any hold to his rising ire. "Oy, Gremlin, what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

* * *

"O-oh! You're tha' hero from yesterday—"

"HEY! What the fuck, what's going on with you?!"

The green haired boy's knees buckled and the blond hero nearly didn't catch him in time before his head smashed against the sidewalk.

"HEY!" Katsuki leaned over the loopy boy with a glare as he gently lowered the kid flat on his back. "Are you fucking sick?"

"I think so…" the blond's glare intensified. 'Little shit had the gall to fucking smile.'

"—of all the fucking days." He sighed as he rolled up the wrapper of his remaining snack and shoved it in his pocket. He grabbed the other boy's arm and heaved him up to his feet, which he fortunately stayed on. "Put this in your bag, I'm not carrying you and a tub of miso paste at the same time."

The greenette nodded, and complied with the request. "Why would you c'rry me?"

"Because I know you won't fucking get anywhere if I don't." Katsuki presented his back to the boy and crouched down. "Get on, Zombie boy. We need to get that tub of miso back to my mom first, my place is near."

"I'm no' a z'mbie. I'm Izuku."

"Yeah, fucking whatever, get the fuck on or I'm leaving your ass."

The smaller boy pouted but did as he was told. "Yer a mean hero."

"—makes me wonder why I'm saving our ass anyway." The blond grunted. "FUCK, you're heavy! What do you eat—tables?!"

The boy on his back was quiet as Katsuki walked back towards his home and he wondered briefly if he had fainted.

"Did you jus' call me fat?"

"OH, FOR FUCKING—"

* * *

The walk seemed longer for some reason. Though it was probably because of the mini-truck he was carrying on his back.

The green haired boy was mumbling the whole time he was 'smooshed' against the blond's shoulder. It was a little concerning due to the heat that he was exuding from his small form.

"Oy, you still alive there, fucker?"

"Y'know, some'ne'll wash yer mouth wit' soap one day." Izuku answered a little louder than his mumbling.

"Yeah, well, we're fucking here. I'll get you some medicine, then you need to call someone to fucking pick your ass up from my house—I'm not going to fucking carry you anymore."

"Okay." The greenette agreed.

* * *

The blond announced his presence as soon as he opened the door, but found that the house was disturbingly quiet.

"HEY, OLD HAG, I HAVE YOUR FUCKING MISO PASTE!"

No answer.

"The fuck?" Katsuki grunted as he deposited the dozing boy on their couch and stomped his way to the kitchen.

The sight of the note on the fridge lit his ire, but he went towards it to read anyway.

**Katsuki,**

**The hospital called. Mrs. Tashikawa, you know the old lady from next door that your father helps out every now and again? Apparently she fell over the stairs and had quite the head injury. Your father discovered her when he went to ask if she wanted to join us for lunch.**

**Cook the rest, the ingredients are already in the counter. You know how to cook, I fucking taught you.**

**We'll be back soon. Love you~**

**Mom and Dad**

With a sigh, he turned towards the living room to tell the other boy to wait only to find the greenette up and swaying by the window.

"OY! SIT THE FUCK DOWN BEFORE YOU BREAK YOURSELF!" Katsuki called out as he marched towards the other.

"There wassome'ne." Izuku mumbled, pointing out of the window.

"What?" the blond peered at the window to where the boy was looking at hazily. "There's no one there, you fucktard, what're you on about?"

"No, no, no—some'ne was there. They were wavin' at me from the lawn." the smaller boy grinned at the blond, who merely scowled in return.

"Fucking, sit down, you useless thing. You're hallucinating. Have you called someone?"

"No?"

"Then, fucking call someone!"

"But who would I call?" Katsuki gave the boy a look of disbelief as he shoved him back to couch.

"Fucking anyone who lives with you, you dolt!"

"—but no one lives with m—OH! There's someone now, but I don't know their number."

"What the actual fuck?" the blond glared in annoyance as he snatched the boy's bag and pulled out his purchase before rumaging through the other's things.

It was then that a ringtone broke the silence.

"Oh! I love that song~" Izuku hummed along, as the aspiring hero gave him another disbelieving look.

"That's your fucking phone! Someone is calling—answer it!"

"Oh, okay." The kid accepted the noisy, vibrating smartphone from the blond. "Hello? TOSHI! Hi~"

* * *

"Izuku, where did you go?" Hitoshi sighed as his call was finally answered. "I woke up and you were gone."

Both him and his teacher were surprised at the lack of smiling green bean when they woke up half past eleven; while they were relatively calm about it—the younger of the two grew increasingly worried for every sms and calls that went unanswered.

Aizawa stared at his student as he paced during the call.

"YOU WHAT? Wait, where are you?" Hitoshi's voice was more worried despite his call being answered; and that put the teacher on edge.

Downing the rest of his coffee, Aizawa stood up and reached for his coat and shoes, gesturing for Hitoshi to do the same.

"Text me the address, we'll come get you."

* * *

Katsuki sighed as he waited on the couch with the snoozing boy.

He already finished cooking, he ate lunch and fed his unexpected guest—made him drink generic paracetamol to lower his fever, and managed to wrestle him into one of his old shirts and sweat pants—they were a little too big on him, but he had nothing for the boy that fitted, especially then that he threw up on the ones he was wearing.

"Fucking useless shit." he grumbled as he placed the back of his hand on his guest's forehead, frowning. "The medicine should be doing it's fucking job by now."

"I'm sorry." the greenette drowsily mumbled, startling the other boy into jerking his hand away from the fevered forehead.

"The fuck are you on about?"

"You didn't have to do this."

"Yeah, well—" It was true. "I don't have a fucking choice in the matter. What kind of hero do you fucking think I am?"

"You were great yesterday." Izuku smiled, his eyes closed in exhaustion. "Your explosions were awesome."

Katsuki found himself smiling a little at the compliment. "Yeah, it fucking is."

A series of knocks on the front door broke their quiet discussion—groaning, the blond stood up and went around the couch to answer the door, halting for a bit, hesitating hand drew back from actually ruffling the sick boy's green hair.

Another knock made the blond grunt and marched towards the door.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming—AIZAWA-SENSEI?!"

* * *

_**To be continued…**_


	5. There's Always Something

Katsuki watched his homeroom teacher quietly fuss over the sick child as he carefully handed a cup of tea to his classmate.

It felt more than just a little surreal.

"Where did you find him?" Shinsou's voice pulled his attention back to Class A's very own 'Zombie Boy'.

"Near Calico's Store. He was looking for the fuc—freaking bus stop." The blond hastily rephrased when he felt his teacher's gaze. He didn't want to spend 3 hours balancing on his toes with quirk-supressing cuffs again.

"Hm." The hero students turned to their teacher at the slight noise. "It could be that he went to his school? Shinsou, you said that he goes to Bridge Academy—he might have had some prior arrangements with a teacher or fellow student to meet-up with?"

"Oh, so the school was around that area." The violet haired boy nodded. "So unlucky, catching fever out in the open."

"Fevers are not instant, Walking Dead." Katsuki huffed as he walked over to the foot stool near the couch and sat down with one of his hands drifting to the sick kid's calf. "He's warm all over. He must've already felt like sh—crap when he woke up, maybe even when he went to bed last night. The blockhead only made it worse by traveling around this morning."

The underground hero sighed as he arranged Izuku's head to his lap as he sat down, and moved the cushion that was previously under the boy's head to the greenette's arms. Hizashi had warned him that the boy was an absolute 'cuddle bug'.

Surely enough, as soon as the pillow was placed near, the art student latched unto it and hugged it close even in his illness-induced nap.

"So, you're saying Izuku ignored the signs of him being unwell and went to school?" Shinsou asked after sipping delicately at his tea. He wished he had asked for coffee despite the surprising quality of it.

"The dude was slurring and leaning on things like a drunk, talking koala by the time I found him. He also collapsed, but he didn't get hurt—so, no worries there. He was starting to hallucinate though." The blond sighed before standing up and heading over to the armchair free of his violet haired classmate.

"Let me guess—" The brainwasher smirked. "—he saw Eraserhead in a nyan-cat shirt and pink sweats?"

Katsuki gave the other boy a considering look after a careful glace at their glaring adult companion before shaking his head. "He said he saw someone waving at him from our lawn."

The silence that followed was expected, but the worried glance of their homeroon teacher had the boys on alert.

"What is it?" Shinsou asked, rising from his seat.

"I need you to take my place here." Aizawa gestured to the sleeping teen. "Bakugou, check the whole house. Lock all the doors and windows—be alert, both of you."

Two aspiring heros were quick to follow the orders as their teacher stood up, phone in hand—sending someone a message, by the looks of it.

"I'll check outside, don't let anyone in that isn't me." The underground hero's tone left no room for argument; not that they had anything to argue about.

Before opening the door, the dark haired man looked back to his students with a grim expression. "I, Pro-hero Eraserhead, hereby give you full permission to use your quirks against anything and anyone who means to hurt you or your charge."

Both students blanched briefly, before giving sharp nods.

"Stay safe. Make good use of your provisional licenses." Their teacher muttered as he opened the door to go outside and locked it after himself.

* * *

"You think someone could have gotten in while you were managing Izu?" Shinsou sent Katsuki a look.

"Tch. If someone did, I probably wouldn't hear them well over the nerd's fanboying."

The blond raised a finger to his lips, as he looked upwards. He carefully took off his socks, and quietly stalked off further into his home.

The violet haired hero stayed by his sick friend, vigilant and ready to defend.

* * *

**To: DumbLoudBlond**

**From: GrumpyCATerpillar**

I need you to go to Bakugou's address.

**To: GrumpyCATerpillar**

**From: DumbLoudBlond**

SHOOOOOUTAAAAA!

Wait, why?

**To: DumbLoudBlond**

**From: GrumpyCATerpillar**

Izuku is with me and Shinsou.

It could be nothing...

**To: GrumpyCATerpillar**

**From: DumbLoudBlond**

Or?

**To: DumbLoudBlond**

**From: GrumpyCATerpillar**

The Artist.

**To: GrumpyCATerpillar**

**From: DumbLoudBlond**

I'm on my way.

Keep an eye on my little listener please.

* * *

While he expected to find nothing, he still did a thorough search on the front and back yard of the Bakugous' home.

What he found was something that he wasn't quite sure of yet, but was admittedly rather menacing.

A plain white canvas was wedged between the shrubs in front of the home.

When Shouta pulled it free, he found the words: "_You forgot this."_ painted on the plastic.

It was red paint.

He sent a message to Detective Tsukauchi about it, requesting assistance and an investigation.

The teacher sighed and did another sweep before heading back to the kids.

He carefully tapped a coded knock on the wooden door, which was answered with another series of knocks.

Tapping the final sequence, the door opened to an irate-looking blond boy.

* * *

Hizashi and the police came soon, just as Bakugou finished reporting to his teacher that while his mother left several windows open in haste to take their neighbor to the hospital, there was nothing inside the house that would be out of the ordinary—there were no signs of an intruder.

"**SHOOOOOOOUTA!**"

Hearing Present Mic's voice jolted Izuku from his nap, mumbling softly as he rubbed at his eyes.

Next had been a whirlwind of activities that the greenette tried to make sense of.

He could recall watching the explosive hero yelling onto a phone, telling whoever was on that line that he was safe and that the police were at their house.

Izuku watched Hitoshi crouched in front of him before he placed one of his hands on the fevered boy's forehead. The greenette watched him more as he called for someone. Those bags were impressive.

Mr. Aizawa's face was frowning in concern. The art student briefly wondered when his landlord's friend got there. 'Huh, same bags. Aizawa-san can pass off as Toshi's uncle.' He thought, which for some reason made the other man's lips twitch upward.

"Izuku? Hey, you're burning, sweetheart—we'll head home now, okay?" Mr. Yamada's voice soothed from somewhere to his left. He realized there was a hand against the side of his neck.

"Owkie." Or at least, Izuku thought he said that before everything went dark.

* * *

The ride back to the apartment was quiet, and hasty—but very careful.

Hizashi barely parked properly before he was out of the car and opening the door to the back seat to take the sick boy from his students and throwing the car key at his best friend—trusting Shouta to park it accordingly if he missed.

The voice hero carried his charge inside, walking fast towards the elevator. He quickly greeted the receptionist on his way and asked her to let Eraserhead and his students through.

With Shouta's quick reflex, he was able to catch the key with no problem, taking the time to fix the car before he led his students to the apartment.

Bakugou would be staying with them for time being, the police had arranged for his parents to stay at a hotel while they search the house for anymore clues. The UA teacher doubted that it would take more than a couple of days to finish. A quick glance at the teen's overnight bag, he figured that the boy thought so, too.

The three waited for the elevator to go down, answering chats and messages on their respective phones.

"So, this Izuku person—what's the deal? Why are you guys here?" Bakugou asked as soon as they entered the elevator.

"I'll explain it better when we get to the apartment. It's inevitable that you two would know about the case anyway seeing as you've involved yourselves in it." The teacher drawled as he pocketed his phone and pressed the button for the fifth floor.

"Oh!" Shinsou exclaimed. "I just remembered, I saw Todoroki here yesterday. Does he know about Present Mic's apartment?"

"Ah," The underground hero nodded. "—he's probably bringing in some old clothes and items that Izuku could use. Hizashi mentioned talking to the class about it since the boy refused to buy anything for himself aside from his bare basic necessities."

"Clothing is not a necessity?" The blond raised a brow. "Come to think of it, I do remember Present Mic announcing something like that."

Shinsou nodded along. "He didn't give his address—just told us that whoever would want to donate anything can come by to the teacher's faculty."

"So, this guy is a charity case?"

"Not exactly." Aizawa led the two out of the elevator and towards room 502.

* * *

"If anyone wants anything, go get it yourselves." Shouta's voice spoke from the doorway of the apartment, prompting a harried looking voice hero to come out from one of the rooms.

"Hey there, everybody!" The long haired blond greeted with his usual zest despite looking as if he just hurried out of bed. "Izu-chan is now settled resting in his bed. Though his fever is still there, he doesn't look so green anymore."

"You should join him, Hizashi. You look haggard."

"Thanks, Shou. You're pretty, too."

"No, I mean it. Join him. He'll probably welcome the cuddle-companion. Kids need that, right?"

"It's actually just for babies and toddlers, but yeah okay, i see your point. You guys are okay out here by yourselves?"

"Yes, I know where everything is." Shinsou answered coming back from the kitchen with a couple of mugs of warm coffee. "Here you go, sensei."

Aizawa gave the teen a grateful nod as he accepted the beverage.

"Alright. If you guys are sure—" all three guests nodded. "Okay, but if you need anything don't hesitate to call me—and don't disturb room 503!"

"What's in room 503?"

"It's Yagi-san from UA. I recognized him when we went to drop off groceries and made soup for him in his room yesterday." Shinsou shrugged as he made his way over to the couch.

"Yes, and he needs rest so please don't disturb him." Present Mic nodded before making his way back to Izuku's room with a slight wave. "I'll come back out to make dinner later."

* * *

"So, this kid is—"

"Quirkless and is a possible target, yes." Aizawa nodded, drinking from his mug.

Bakugou was sitting on one of the sofa's, while the 2 shared the other one. The living-room area was a bit bare; bar the light furnishing (2 sofas and a coffee table), the only other thing that they could see was an old painting easel, a big open box of tubed paint, and 2 big jars (one filled to the brim with paint brushed and the other one empty).

"And he's a person of interest for UA because he's Present Mic's unofficial charge?" Shinsou asked after munching on a biscuit.

"Hizashi has plans of adopting Izuku officially, it's just taking quite some time but it's moving along—but no, that's not really the issue." The teacher placed his empty mug on the coffee table and opened a concealed drawer on its side. He pulled out a stack of notebooks.

The blond teen carefully moved himself to the floor and took one of the notebooks.

"Hero Analysis for the Future No. 1? Jeez, talk about nerding-out. How many did he make of this?" Bakugou asked even as he opened the notebook and read the contents.

"There's 13 in total before we managed to convince him to start coding it."

"We?' Shinsou repeated as he slid one of the notes towards himself.

"It's not a wide-known fact, but Nezu had expressed a keen interest towards the boy's intellect and skills at analysis."

"I mean, sure, the things in here are great and all, but any good analyst can write these." Bakugou scoffed as he continued reading the detailed workings of Best Jeanist's quirk.

"Yes, and that's why he piqued Nezu's interest." The homeroom teacher leaned back and stared at his students. "Bakugou, that notebook you're holding can be considered something between college-grade analysis to that of a standard police analysis."

"Yeah, I gathered that. I've seen plenty while I'm at the station for briefing." the blond grumbled.

"—he made that first notebook when he was 4 years old." The underground hero internally smirked at the shocked looks both aspiring heroes adopted. "It gets more... intricate as you go through the notes, that I can assure you."

"You've read them?" Shinsou asked with renewed fervor in reading the note in his hands. He was holding notebook no.2. "I don't understand. Izuku said he rarely goes out of the apartment."

"He didn't need to. He analyzed from Hizashi's room when the idiot watches the news."

"HE GOT ALL THIS FROM THE FUCKING TELEVISION?!" Bakugou quicklly released the notebook as he felt his palms heat up.

"Ah, good, I was wondering when I'd hear you swearing again. It feels so unnatural." Shinsou chuckled while their teacher smirked.

"That's a first strike." Aizawa warned. Curbing the teen's potty-mouth was something of an amusement for him, but it did help the aspiring explosive hero when it comes to dealing with victims.

"OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE—"

"Second strike."

The teen settled with glaring at the scruffy man as his classmate's poorly hidden laughter echoed in the room. "You're the worst."

* * *

_**To be continued...**_


	6. Of Bunnies, Kittens, & Wild-haired Pups

The kids had all went to bed.

Shouta found himself sitting at the kitchen bar with a cup of coffee at 2:36 in the morning, staring at nothing in particular. A temporary bliss from his usual hectic life schedule. It was boring; he needed 'boring' in his life more often.

Occasionally, his head would swivel towards the soft snores of his students, slumbering in the living room area, but aside from that, there was nothing more pressing that could hold his attention; so he spaced out—

Until he heard a door shut. It was soft, but in the silence of the apartment, it was loud enough to put him on high alert.

"Shouta?" Hizashi's soft call made the dark haired man relax a little.

"In the kitchen." He answered, letting out a breath he was unaware of holding.

The blond's hair was gathered in a neat ponytail, looking far better than earlier.

"I'm going out to that 24/7 pharmacy near your place to get Izuku some medicine. According to Recovery Girl, he was supposed to drink it every 4-6 hours until the fever breaks. Do you need me to get you anything?"

The underground hero looked at his nearly empty cup and answered. "4 jelly pouches; strawberry yogurt, if they have it."

The voice hero muttered about him and his obsession with the vitamin snacks, but agreed to get them for him after being stared down.

"Oh, do you mind keeping Izuku company while I'm out? He tends to get restless in bed without a cuddle pillow."

"I'm surprised he doesn't have one."

"Oh, he does, but it's currently in the laundry. Along with Bakugou's shirt. He kind of threw up on them."

Shouta gave the other man a disgruntled look before standing up and leaving his cup in the sink. "If he vomits on me, I'm burning your vinyl collection."

"Shouta, **noooooo**—"

"Shouta, yes." The dark haired man glared. "Go, I'll take care of your problem child."

"Izu-kun is not a problem child, he's a sweet little angel." Hizashi muttered with a pout as he slid his jacket on.

"He fits the victim profile of a modern-day murderer, that makes it a problem—and he's a tiny little human, that makes him a child." The dark haired man smirked at his best friend as he walked him to the door. "You have your key?"

"Yeah. I'll see you in a bit~!"

* * *

Shouta stared at the Izuku as he tossed and turned in bed, feeling slightly apprehensive.

It wasn't like he had never cuddled before. His little tabby back home can attest to that; Missy loved her kitty cuddles.

The kid in bed whimpered, trembling and curling up, hands subconsciously looking for something to grab on to.

The teacher sighed after a brief look of consideration and sat down beside Izuku, carding his fingers into the child's green hair. "You're alright. He'll be back soon." he murmured audibly.

There was a breath of a whisper that made the man lean down to hear clearer.

It was slurred with sleep, though broken and soft, it was still coherent. They were the same three words over and over: _**"I'm sorry, mom."**_

With another sigh, Shouta rearranged the boy's position so that he could lay beside him and finally allow the cuddling to happen.

"Shh, Problem Child. You've done nothing wrong. Sleep easy now." The teacher murmured as he held the fevered boy close.

"—but, she left me..."

The dark haired man pulled away enough to peer down at the art student, finding hazy, but aware green eyes looking up at him. "She may have had her own reasons why she had done what she did, Izuku."

"She didn't like me anymore." The boy sounded so sure of it, it was heartbreaking. "I think she decided that she didn't want me after all when the doctor said I won't develop any quirks."

Shouta pulled the boy back into his embrace and continued to brush his green locks back from his fevered forehead in a soothing manner. "Yes, well—that may be so, but we'll never really know what was going on in her mind until we ask her ourselves." He let out another sigh, relaxing a little as he felt Izuku's trembling lessen from the contact.

They stayed that way for a while before Izuku asked another question in a soft voice.

"Aizawa-san, do you think she remembers me?"

"It's been 13 years, but I'm pretty sure she would never forget you." _'I'll even make sure that she remembers when we find her.' _"I mean, who could forget such an eccentric looking rabbit?"

The greenette giggled childishly. "You're more eccentric than I am, Aizawa-san."

"Mm, no. I don't think so. I'm rather very normal."

"You drink coffee every time~"

"So does your ridiculous landlord."

"Yeah, but he doesn't drink coffee while he's in the toilet—"

"That was one time—"

"He told me you do that all the time."

"There's no evidence of that."

"You also sleep in a sleeping bag even though you're on a bed?"

"Okay, yeah, there's that—but that's more preference that eccentricity."

"Preference is what makes it eccentric though~"

Izuku let out another giggle as the dark haired man proceeded to poke his sides with the lack of convincing replies.

Settling down shortly after as not to exacerbate the kid's illness, Shouta's hand returned to the student's hair to continue his earlier ministration. The kid was all too happy to snuggle back into his embrace, making the underground hero smile a little. The kid's clinging made him recall the incident he had with the kid long ago.

* * *

_Seeing a tiny kid in the middle of a large puddle of brownish black liquid was not something he was expecting to see after spending some time in the police station processing paperwork for the villain he caught—three hours **after** his supposed shift ended. The kid was wearing a red shirt that looked fairly brand new and a pair of pale colored shorts that was probably considered beige if it weren't for the amount of gunk clinging to the tiny being's clothing and legs._

_At seven years old, Izuku Midoriya was still too small for his age. Even more so when he was stuck in knee-deep puddle of muck where a group of children, most likely his classmates, had left him without any means to get out of the disgusting mess._

_"Are you alright?" The pro-hero asked as he walked nearer._

_"I'm fine, thank you—" Even when tears have fallen from the young boy's face, he smiled at him hopefully. "I'm sorry to be a bother, but could you please help me out? I promise not to mess your clothes. I just don't want to fall over and make more mess. I don't want to make Yama-san sad."_

_"Is Yama-san your guardian?" Shouta asked, ignoring the child's panic as he submerged himself in the muck to get him. "We can talk to your teachers about this—you know that what they did to you was not right, don't you?"_

_"—b-b-but Keinichi-kun was just trying to be funny! He didn't mean it when he said he would hurt me if I didn't follow him. Please don't get him in trouble—"_

_The underground hero sighed, but took note of the school yard nearby. "Is that your school?"_

_"Y-yes. N-no, sir, your clothes!" The child exclaimed as he was picked up and held close by the hero._

_"It's okay, kid. I was heading home anyway. I just finished patrol. It took a while to process the villain in the station."_

_"... is that why you're wearing goggles?" The hero nodded and asked where his house was. He wasn't going to allow the kid to continue the day with such a mess. 'He looked like he needed a day off anyway.'_

_Safe to say, after being pointed to his best friend's residence helped him connect the dots between the Present Mic's constant chatter about his little stray and the muddy kid he was carrying._

_The walk wasn't far, but the gunk on their clothes felt like it added to the weight. The kid clung tight to him all the way like a little koala despite his earlier reservation about the hero's clothes._

_"So, Hizashi Yamada is your guardian?" Shouta asked as they neared the building._

_"He just lets me stay with him. I give him drawings. He likes it." The child answered._

_"Ah, so he's more like your landlord then."_

_"What's a landlord?"_

* * *

The erasure hero blinked when he heard the kid's stomach growl. Izuku giggled sheepishly.

"Hizashi went out to buy some more medicine. Would you like to try and eat something?"

"Mm... I think I still have some chicken noodle soup packets?"

"I think you do. If not, I can make one from scratch seeing as your kitchen is very well stocked."

"You can?"

"I don't look much, but I know my way around the kitchen."

"I mean, I don't want to be a bother. I can cook it myself—"

"Don't be silly, Problem Child. It's not like I'll let you."

"But—"

"Listen, Izuku—" Shouta pulled away again to look at the child directly into his vibrant eyes. "For years, Hizashi and I have been trying to take care of you—and I can tell you that it's not nearly enough for us. I know you're scared that we might leave you like 'she' did, but we won't. We **want** to take care of you, and I can promise you that we won't leave you. I've grown far too fond of you to stay out of your life completely, and that giant cockatiel, too.

I know you've been very independent most of your life, but will you at least try to let us care for you every now and again?"

Izuku stared back with a small frown, but nodded anyway.

"Good. Now, I know for a certain fact that Hizashi has been meaning to ask you if you want to combine your apartment with his. He wanted to do that way back before, but he was afraid that you wouldn't like it."

"Why?"

"So that he could watch over you properly? Isn't that how guardianship works?"

"...but I don't have a guardian?"

Shouta rolled his eyes at the teen before he gently extracted himself from the bed. "Ugh, you know what? I'll get started on that chicken noodle soup. Stay here and try to get some more sleep. I'll wake you when it's done."

* * *

Too much sleep, no warmth, blanket too thick, too much silence, not enough darkness, too achey, too weak, **too weak...**

It didn't take long for Izuku to disregard the older man's last command.

It was too lonely, too cold, **too lonely...**

Pretty soon his sock-clad feet were travelling against the chilled wooden floor towards the dimly lit living room area where 2 U.A. students were sprawled in their respective sofas.

Hitoshi's foot managed to have wormed out of his blanket and over the furniture's backrest, while the blond hero student had his back to them.

He could hear the soft noises in the kitchen where Mr. Aizawa proceeded to cook food.

Izuku then decided to leave the two to sleep and continued on to the kitchen area, sitting down on one of the seats at the bar. He watched the dark haired man silently, placing his head on top of his arms on the surface.

If the teacher was surprised at his appearance, he didn't show any signs of it.

Though, Izuku was fairly startled to find Hitoshi in the seat beside his, mirroring his posture.

"You guys are a bunch of weirdos, you know that right?" Katsuki's sleep-roughened growl could be heard as he proceeded to take the seat next to the green-haired artist's other side. "Are you seriously cooking at this hour, sensei?"

"Shush, Bakugou, I made enough for all of us. We missed dinner after all." The dark haired man resolutely kept his back to the three boys as he worked on their food.

"How're you doin', Izu?" Hitoshi blinked sleepily after yawning a little.

"...feel tired." The greenette answered, trying and failing to restrain his own yawn.

"Tch, obviously, you damn nerd, you're still sick." Katsuki butted-in after checking the boy's temperature using his hand at the back of Izuku's neck. "Didn't the medicine work?"

"Unfortunately, no one had the means to realize that it had to be taken continuously—until Hizashi called Recovery Girl, that is." Aizawa added the chopped scallions to the pot of soup and called for Shinsou to set the table.

Izuku followed the violet haired teen waiting to assist the tired hero intern.

They all proceeded to gather at the table to eat when the rain started pouring outside.

"Ah... I forgot to tell Yamada-san about the heating." The green haired artist muttered distractedly before thanking the teacher for handing him the bowl of soup.

"The heating?" Aizawa repeated as he gave his students their own bowls.

"I think it's broken?" Izuku answered after swallowing a spoonful. "It stopped working last Thursday—it hadn't really been a problem since I have a thick blanket that I can use in the linen closet, but—" he glanced at the other 2 students and their teacher.

Understanding what the boy was trying to convey, he nodded. "We can push the 2 sofas together. It'll be big enough to accommodated all three of you—" Aizawa started.

"—or we can just use the floor? I saw some rolled up futons in the closet down the hall next to bathroom, we can just use that." Hitoshi suggested.

The homeroom teacher nodded, quickly finishing his own bowl so that he could set their sleeping space.

"Hey, nerd, is your thick blanket big enough for 4 people?" Katsuki asked as he swirled the contents of his own bowl.

"I think so? You guys can use it if you want? I can just combined the other blankets for another."

"Shut up! You're tiny, we'll all fit anyway."

"I am not! Toshi, I'm not tiny, right?" Izuku turned to the violet haired boy who finished his bowl of soup.

"I'm going go help, Aizawa-sensei." Hitoshi announced before zooming out of the kitchen area.

"Hah! Coward!" Katsuki laughed.

"You're a mean hero,—uh... Oh, you never told me your name." The greenette realized.

"Yeah, so?"

"I mean, you know mine, so wouldn't it be fair to let me know yours?"

"I'm not known to play fair."

Izuku pouted. "I heard Aizawa-san call you Bakugou though, so I guess I'll call you that."

"Whatever. You done with your soup?"

The art student turned back to his bowl in a daze and finished it with careful sips.

"Finally! Give me your fucking bowl, I'll do the dishes." The art student blinked when his bowl disappeared from the table, but continued to stare at the space while listening to the other boy curse the dishes he was washing.

* * *

Aizawa held back a chuckle at the lost look the greenette sported. The kid had his hands beneath his thighs—he realized that it was an effort to keep them warm when Izuku shivered.

"Come on, Izuku. Back to bed. You'll be between me and Bakugou, Hitoshi already claimed the other end."

"WHAT? NO WAY, I'M SLEEPING ON THE COUCH!" Katsuki raged as he put away the last dried dish.

"Your quirk allows you to have a higher body temperature than normal, it will help keep the problem child warm—but if you'd rather he freeze, that's fine."

The explosive teen was quiet for a moment before he snarled promises of bodily harm if anyone ever even thought to cuddle with him before he stomped off to the living room area.

The homeroom teacher led the sick boy to the futons where Shinsou was already snoring softly. He took the time tucking the purple haired teen properly before quickly moving to the other end, holding the greenette before he could dive next to Bakugou, who was stretched out next to the sleeping brainwasher.

"Bakugou, have you brushed your teeth?"

Red eyes glared at the dark haired man before the teen sat up and hurried towards the bathroom with his bag. He was followed by Izuku who was being ushered by the U.A. teacher to do the same.

"Just because you're sick doesn't mean you're excused from dental hygiene." Aizawa muttered as he took Izuku's toothbrush and applied an amount of toothpaste on it before handing it to the sleepy teen. "Brush properly, n—Bakugou, stop cursing the bacteria."

"Zombie-face didn't brush his teeth." The blond grumbled after being chided.

"He did. I made his brush while I was setting up the futons." The teacher sighed as he waited for them to finish and led both back to the living room area.

* * *

Hizashi came back to the apartment to find his friend glaring at him.

"Shouta?" The voice hero barely kept his laughter in check.

"Not another word." the other growled lowly.

Somehow, in a short span of minutes that the kids fell back asleep, they all managed to crowd the dark haired man in a cuddling fest.

Heck, even Bakugou was participating in his unconscious state.

Shinsou ended up clinging to his teacher's hand and the explosive blond's back, while Izuku was pressed snugly against Shouta's right side, and Bakugou completing the body trap by being nestled on the man's left. Both boys on either side had their arms around the hero's torso.

"Honestly, Shou, I don't know whether I'd be jealous or not." The radio host grinned.

* * *

_**To be continued...**_


End file.
